Booze & Bitches: Women by Charles Bukowski

Book Review
Women by Charles Bukowski
First Published in 1978
This Edition Published in 2002 by Ecco (HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.)

Another great Charles Bukowski novel--not quite as good as Post Office, but very entertaining nonetheless. Women is another thinly-veiled autobiography of the author's life in the late 70s when he is starting to become famous. The novel is strictly about his relationships with tens, if not close to a hundred women, most of whom he meets at his poetry readings or at the behest of the women themselves who write to him and want to meet him. Bukowski, a.k.a. Henry Chinaski, rarely turns anyone down, except the occasional hooker. The description of his encounters are very vivid and memorable:

"Upon awakening I got up and used Joanna's toothbrush, drank a couple of glasses of water, washed my hands and face an got back into bed. Joanna turned around and my mouth found hers. My cock began to rise. I put her hand on my cock. I grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, kissing her, savagely. I played with her cunt. I teased her clit for a long time. She was very wet. I mounted and buried it. I held it in. I could feel her responding. I was able to work a long time. Finally I was unable to hold back any longer. I was wet with sweat and my heart beat so loudly that I could hear it.
'I'm not in very good shape," I told her.
'I liked it. Let's have a joint.'
She produced a joint, already rolled. We passed it back and forth. 'Joanna,' I told her, 'I'm still sleepy. I could use another hour.'
'Sure. As soon as we finish this joint.'
We finished the joint and stretched out in bed again. I slept."

As always, booze is never far away:

"We drank some more and then went to bed. Her body was amazing, glorious, Playboy style, but unfortunately I was drunk. I did get it up, however, and I pumped and pumped, I grabbed her long hair, I got it out from under her and ran my hands through it, I was excited but I couldn't finally do it. I rolled off, told Cassie goodnight, and slept a guilty sleep.

In the morning I was embarrassed. I was sure I would never see Cassie again. We dressed. It was about 10 AM. We walked to the M.G. and got in. I didn't talk, she didn't talk. I felt the fool, but there was nothing to say. We drove back to The Lancer and there was the blue Volks.
'Thanks for all of it, Cassie. Think nice thoughts about Chinaski.'
She didn't answer. I kissed her on the cheek and got out. She drove off in the M.G. It was, after all as Lydia had said, 'If you want to drink, drink; if you want to fuck, throw the bottle away.'
My problem was that I wanted to do both."

The entire novel, however, is not just about sex and alcohol. There is a flow to the story and it's always interesting and rarely repetitious, whether he flies to a poetry reading, goes to the racetrack, or gets drunk with a new woman.

While Henry Chinaski has some serious shortcomings as a man--the foremost being that he cannot stay loyal--he does see beauty in women, and on the inside too. He fights his demons like any other alcoholic, but in the end he's almost an OK guy.